


Eye Contact

by SpiritedStory



Series: SmilingSpiritShipping (Cole x Naomi Trevelyan) [1]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Friendship/Love, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-10
Updated: 2015-10-16
Packaged: 2018-04-25 16:02:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4967305
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpiritedStory/pseuds/SpiritedStory
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As Cole cannot easily hear the Inquisitor's thoughts, he looks to her eyes to broadcast her emotions.<br/>A gradually romantic Cole x fem!Trevelyan fic. Rated T for alcohol reference, violence, blood, and mild language.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Rhythm, Red and Weeping

**E** veryone seemed to have someone else to turn to when times were tough. To talk to through their troubles. The Iron Bull had Dorian, Varric had Bianca, even Solas had the spirits of the Fade. They kept special places in their hearts for them, saving, soothing, helping their sore souls. Varric called them friends, though his heart sings much differently when referring to Bianca. I'm 'friends' with Varric. It's not the same song. There must be more.

            I can't hear Naomi Trevelyan's heart. Like trying to listen to a song from behind a locked door, a muffled melody amidst the quiet, unable to make out the meaning. I was frustrated, fascinated, and I found myself more and more around her, trying to find, figure out just what she felt. She didn't mind. She'd just tuck a long, gold lock behind her ear and smile.

            She always smiled, and humans would smile when they were happy, but not ALL the time. She smiled without ceasing. The only way to tell her true thoughts were to look to her aquamarine eyes. They couldn't sing, but somehow their shine could show the soul behind. Stormy when angered, soft when calm, I studied them all. There was a strange sense of satisfaction from them, and I would often get lost at sea sifting through until Naomi would pull me out.

            "Wake up, Cole." She would laugh. "You're daydreaming again."

            "I don't daydream, I'm listening to your eyes." I would correct, though already pulled out of the iris and into reality. Her reaction from there started out as a smirk of confusion, followed by her ruffling my hair with delicate fingers. Later on she'd just shake her head and laugh. Every night she'd visit the tavern's third floor, taking up tea to drink, letting me stare as she sipped. Sometimes she'd stare back, and we would spend minutes like that. Sitting and staring, her smile still on her lips, ignoring The Iron Bull's requests to join him in drinking more potent beverages. It was strange…but I liked then.

            One night, I asked her. "Why are you always smiling?"

            It took her a moment to answer, the blue of her eyes fighting over a choice, a chance, but after it was over she resumed her grin.

            "I like smiling, It makes me happy. You should try it sometime." The ocean of her eyes dulled and shifted their focus to the dregs in her cup. Something wasn't right, but I didn't know what. I wish I had known what at the time. Instead I held onto her words and eyes, curling up the ends of my lips to display a shy, sloppy smile. It sent Naomi into a minute's worth of laughter.

            "You should show that to Varric! You need practice, but you're close." She pat my shoulder and rose to leave.

            I thought about her eyes all night.

* * *

 

            Evangeline and Cullen are the only Templars I've ever liked, the rest are far too dangerous. Now the Templars were red inside, evil bubbling up in their throats and chest, filling every nook and cranny with unrest. Naomi didn't know there were Templars in the Emerald Graves. She once looked so peaceful there, eyes shifting from detail to detail in awe of the green before us. We would have picnics there with Varric and Cassandra before we found _them_. I can still remember her eyes when she caught sight of red Templars-it was the first time I didn't see a smile on her face.

            Fury, fear, fight-or-flight. She ripped the staff off her back and shot like a madman. I could barely swing at one before they fell. The rest of that memory is a blur, but she led us back to Skyhold shortly after, and from there, she slipped from sight.

            I don't know why I looked for her. I still couldn't hear her thoughts, but perhaps that's what human friends would do. Perhaps she was hurting. She was in an empty bedroom tucked away beside the courtyard, curled up on her side on the bed. Her face held a frown, aquamarine dull and dark. They stared off into the cobblestone wall as if it weren't there, and I realized what it meant.

            "Pain." My words made her jump. "No…fear. Pain, fear…more pain from the one before, but here is fear, or both..I'd go with both."

            "Cole! H-how long have you been here?!" Blonde hair shifted as she sat up. She tried to smile, but now she couldn't.

            "You're hurt. I don't know how," It was strange not knowing, "but I want to help."

            The look on her face was caution. Concern wrinkled the bridge between the inquisitor's eyebrows. "It's not that easy, Cole. I'm fine." Her eyes dulled once more, and then it hit me. She was lying.

            "I can _help_. You smile endlessly, but you can't get help if you don't tell anyone. Please tell me. I already hear the thoughts of everyone else, I help them all. I want to help you too."

            Any attempt to smile faded from her fast. It took another 'please' interrupting her train of thought to convince her to speak next. I don't know why she shared. Maybe because she was lonely.

            "The Templars…" Naomi whispered finally, her voice breaking the small silence and cracked like chipped paint. She looked at down at her palms. I took a seat next to her on the bed. "I have a bad history with them. When my parents figured out I had…magic…they sent me to the circle of magi. I-I wasn't exactly treated well there. Nobility didn't seem to phase them. I was only twelve…"

            I spoke up when her voice died down. "Black halls cracked, endless darkness save the orbs that'd open the doors. Shifts of squeaks of rotten rats gnawing at my feet. Can't breath in the dark, can't relax, can't release, I want my mother."

            "That's….yes. I hated it there, it was a prison. They thought I was dangerous for freezing my father's fountain in the middle of a ball. I was just as scared as they were, but took me for it. They had no sympathy, I was only twelve, and they still tried to scare me shiteless. As if it were their sick little idea of fun…I hated it…hated it….I-I…." Tears had been streaming from her eyes, now dark with raw sorrow. I did what I thought humans did when another was in such distress.

            I hugged her.

            It took her a second to react. Trembling arms wrapped around me. Even in sadness she was so warm. Her sniffles broke out into sobs on my scarlet-sewn shoulder. All her sorrows were let out, storm gates open.

            "It's alright." My words creeped from my lips before I could think. I paused to fix or fuel the message I foolishly went face-first into. "…I'll protect you from the Templars. They can't hurt you like that anymore, you're too strong."

            We sat in sniffles and silence for what seemed like hours. She withdrew, finally, and spoke.

            "Thank you, Cole. I'm sorry, I've never shared this with anyone. Don't tell anyone about what I said, or I will…I'll…" Too tired to think, she flopped on her back. The woman's frame sank underneath the hay in the mattress. "Just...please don't tell anyone."

            I shook my head "I won't."

            I wanted that to be my last words, but I couldn't stop. I don't know why. The sentence towed another that slipped through, a spider in the crack between the door and floor. "Your eyes show fear, but not like before. This time is quiet, lingering, a chilled breeze sweeping through a window. I want to help you, but I can't when I don't know you hurt. Please, tell me when you're hurting. Tell me what's wrong. I'll help." I gave her one long, hard stare into her eyes, which softened slightly with the thought.

            "Alright. I'll try." She nodded, curling up slightly. Her eyes were dull, but not with pain. It was a tired dull, like the heaviness on the lids before a well-needed sleep. Seeing my work was done, I rose to leave. I was very wrong about that, apparently, for at that moment she murmured sleepily, "could you stay..? At least until I'm asleep…"

            If it helped, I would do it. So I shed my hat and lay next to her, she suddenly wrapping her arms around me like a stuffed bear. I heard her heart's faint song shift ever so slightly into another measure, and before I knew it, the inquisitor was asleep.

            Before I knew it, I was asleep, too.


	2. Friendship, Fear, and the Feral.

Naomi met with me even more after that. I had always made sure to wait at the tavern's third floor by sunset to see her, but the day after she shared her darkness with me, I found her waiting in our spot by noon. Her right hand held the third cup of tea she had today, her left unconsciously wrapping its fingers through strands of hair like she always did when deep in thought. Her eyes lit up when I appeared before her.

            "Hello! I should've known you weren't always here." Naomi greeted. She smiled in her masked manner. It made my eyebrows wrinkle together at the sight of it. Had nothing changed? Like a broken record, or had I not really helped?

            "You're still smiling like that. Hiding the hurt. Why?" Confusion (or was it frustration?) tugged at my insides like a child pulling the pant leg of preferred parent. I could see that she could see it in my eyes, for her eyes matched for a split second, and lips faded faintly from their fabricated feeling.

            "Ah….uh…how about we move somewhere else, then? There's too many people here." Words formed in her mouth but spoke so faint, only I could hear them. Before I could nod she had my hand and started for the stairs.

            We were in secret, now. A small library draped with cobwebs held us both. It lay beneath the castle, creepy, yet calm. It was where Naomi took a seat on a pile of books and let go of my hand. No smile appeared on her face.

            "My cheeks are killing me...I forgot it hurt that much to keep that act up for so long." Sighed the mage. "Anyway, here we are. Did you tell anyone?" She hadn't answered me.

            "You didn't answer me." She hadn't. "Why do you continue to hide?"

            "I'm not hiding now. I told you I wouldn't hide for _you_. I don't want anyone else to know…which brings me to the question _you_ haven't yet answered." As I looked for a seat that wouldn't disturb the spiders, she crossed her arms.

            "I told you I wouldn't tell anyone, and I didn't." I informed, finally setting myself on the edge of the reading desk. It refused to otherwise creak against my nonexistent weight.

            "Good. I was just making sure, thank you."

            A silence fell in the room. I had found myself getting lost in her eyes again. The color of lyrium in its purest state, chilled but not cold, watching snow fall from the window of a warm cabin.

            "…I don't think I've ever asked how you were." Words woke me. I wonder how long she waited there.

            "I'm fine. I help who I can, when I can. Their hearts sing and voices ring so I can untangle their mess. Make the songs steady, mend the broken hearts."

            "Yes, but what about you?"

            "Me?" I thought I was talking about myself. Perhaps I wasn't clear.

            I wasn't. "Mmhm. Has your day been good?"  
  
            "Well...yes. Grandmother finds grandson, home from Haven, hurt with lost husband but seeing her son turns Skyhold home again. The sun was bright, warming warriors from the chilled night before. I helped people, and I'm happy."  
  
            "Fantastic! I'm glad. We're about to go see what the Wardens are up to. Do you have any opinions on them? I've heard many from everyone; you've got to have some yourself." Wardens. Binding, bounded, bloody, brutal. They hurt people and think they're doing good but they aren't and they wouldn't stop.

            "I don't like them. The Wardens. They hurt people." I announced. "I want to help stop them."

            "A smirk appeared on her lips, eyes glimmering with a determined gleam. "Good. I'd be happy to take you along."

* * *

 

            _I was definitely not happy to be taken along._ They took men and twisted them with demons. Forced to watch the bindings, frantic, fearing becoming feral. To think that they thought they could take the soul and tie it to a terror…they could take me. Tie me. I'd be just a thoughtless tool. I didn't want that. I went to tell Solas, to try to convince him to bind me so I could not become _them_. He nearly fled when I addressed it. How could he be so selfish?

            "But you like demons!" I pled, but he would repeat his protest.

            "I enjoy the company of spirits, yes, which is part of why I do not abuse them with bindings." His words struck me. He should KNOW what I was up against. If anyone would, it would be him. I clenched my fists.

            "It isn't abuse if I ask!" My argument remained, but so did his.

            "Not always true." The elven mage turned to face me, eyes boring holes into mine with a stormy grey that I could not understand. His heart sang a cautious song. "Also, I do not practice blood magic, which renders this entire conversation academic." I tried to begin my rebuttal, but before I could, Naomi appeared.

            That was it. Naomi was a mage, and she liked me…I think. She'd be willing to bind me to her, or at least tell Solas to. I ran up to her, and the brief glance at my eyes told her I was very hurt.

            "What' going on, you two?" Sorry eyes and sickening smile, her voice rang with concern.

            "He won't help me! He's a mage and he likes demons but he refuses to bind me!" My lips trembled at the words I spoke; they left a bitter taste in my mouth.

            At this, Naomi's eyes sparked with curiosity. She spoke while shifting sights between Solas and I. "What's this talk about binding…?"

            "They're binding demons to wardens; they could do it to me! Boxed up, walls around what I want to be, making me not ME, making me a monster…!" it became harder and harder for me to describe out loud, fingers picking at the skin around my nails, eyes frantic with a rise of frustration. "You can bind me too! Or tell Solas, please. Either! I don't want to be like them!"

            Naomi stood still for a moment, and the moment felt like forever. Time stopped as she glanced to Solas, his song a slow and steady drum, and back to me, a frightened flute. Registering my distress she took me by the shoulders. Hands warm at the touch, heart beating through her palms. Mine matched hers the best it could, as if a metronome to ease the unrest.

            "It'll be okay, Cole. I'm sure there's something in between binding you and doing nothing. Sol—"

            "There is." Solas interrupted. "I recall stories of amulets used by Rivaini seers to protect spirits they summoned from rival mages. A spirit wearing an Amulet of the Unbound was immune to blood magic and bindings. It should protect Cole as well." His explanation comforted me, and I found myself calmed but still crowded with worries. Naomi cupped my cheek and brushed it gently with her thumb, a mother helping her nightmare-victim child. Serene seas of her irises held her own unrest within, but she did her best to smile the prettiest to keep me happy. It didn't work.

            "Good. They will not take me." I drew away from them both and took my leave.


	3. Blushes Blooming

           The week after I became human was more painful than I had ever imagined, mainly because I could _feel_ but couldn't _forget_. They could no longer bind me, but I was lost in this realm of reality I couldn't comprehend. It scared me, being real. Like stepping out of watching through a window, spotlight suddenly catching you no matter where you went. Naomi had never remembered the many mistakes I made when trying to meet her each night, I made her forget them before I started over. But now my clumsiness was noticeable and stung my cheeks with red. I was warmer, the reading desk creaked, the people now questioned the Inquisitor for sneaking off with me rather than alone like always. I never realized the hidden library was so cold, or that my stomach hurt without sustenance, my body shutting down without its rest. Naomi had to map out where each privy was in Skyhold, which felt embarrassing to say the least. She'd smile and nod as I stopped by each one, only waiting until after the tour to tell me that I didn't have to use them every time I passed them.

            None of these things seemed to compare to what I also felt. Feeling my own heart beating, blood pumping, were all fantastic and frightening feelings. But I found myself gravitating towards the blonde-haired mage. Her visits were much more frequent, the stares much longer, and as I became more and more hopelessly lost in her eyes, they began to make my cheeks burn. I felt sick around her, sicker without her. She was a poison. Was this how Templars felt in the midst of Lyrium? Her eyes followed my thoughts even without her presence. It confused me. Perhaps I was mistaken, but I swear I heard a different song playing in my heart when I was around her.

            At first I tried to ignore it. Push it back to not cause trouble. It must have been a side effect of becoming human. After all, I was grateful that she let me be this way…I think. As terrifying as realizing that you are being realized is, I was no longer lonely, and that felt curiously comforting. She and I would still visit in that library each day as if nothing had happened. Naomi would share her thoughts, troubles, tales; we'd stare in silence; and then (on her request) I'd share my own thoughts on being human. It fascinated her, my discoveries. I could see it in her eyes. Even something as mundane as saying 'excuse me' to the people before me lit them up in a beautiful, brilliant blue.

            But it got worse. Face burned bolder, heart beat heavier, tongue tied terribly. The song of my heart I once shoved down rang loudly in my ears and refused to stop. She even began to notice, asking me if I was feeling well or okay. I wasn't okay. If this was what being human was all about, I wanted no part of it. But it didn't do this when I was around someone else. My heart. I had to share this with someone. Varric knew about being human, even if he was a dwarf. So instead of meeting the Inquisitor that night, I went to him.

            "Varric." My whisper was loud. I still needed practice, like an unwelcome hiss that formed words only by the lips. Varric was lounging in his normal chair at the main hall, notebook in hand and quill in other. At my failed attempt to be secretive, he let out a hearty laugh. I like his laugh, it isn't fake around me.

            "You need something, Kid? You've got to work on that whisper I taught you, remember: the key is to stay quiet so no one else can hear you but the person you want to. "Closing his book, quill to its side, a smile sprouting amidst the stubble.

            "I think Naomi's poisoning me." I waste no time to announce it, rather hastily, in fact.

            It amazes me how amused he can appear while still signaling surprise. " _Poisoning_ you? How so?"

            "Heart beats fast, stomach churning, can't get those eyes out of my head…maybe it's blood magic. All my blood rushes to my head it seems, is—is that what blood mages do?"

            "Hold on there, Kid. That doesn't sound like poison, that sounds like a…." the dwarf's voice trailed off as he looked behind my shoulder.

            "A what?!" maybe a bit too loud. I turned to see what he spied, and there she stood. The blonde hadn't noticed us yet, but she was looking around, confused on the absence of Cole.

            And there it was again. Short of breath this time, I felt my nails nervously nick my fingertips. A mouse in the room of a bored cat, and Varric noticed.

            "How about we take a walk, Kid." He spoke up just in time, guiding me down and out of the castle before I could answer. "I know just what this is."

* * *

 

            "Love?!" I stuttered, a word all too familiar to me but in a way all too foreign. Like seeing sweaters without ever really wearing one, but now it's yours, and you don't know what to do with it. It sits on your skin and it's warm but it doesn't quite fit and its fabric itches. Apparently that look was painted all over my face, and to pacify, the dwarf raised his hands.

            "I'm not saying it's a full-blown damnation to 'I do''s, I'm just telling you you've got a crush at least. It'll pass, or it won't. You've got to give it time."

            "But I _have_ given it time! It's only gotten worse, and that's why I came to you!" The courtyard was vaguely private in terms of the inner-circle, but the raised voice I carried turned heads nonetheless.

            "Really, now? Maybe you are in love, then." Varric scratched at his chin. His eyes were warm, like honey on freshly baked bread. They were always like that, it seemed.

            "How can I make it stop? I don't like it. It twists me, tangles me, knots in my throat. I can't even speak a simple sentence around her without stuttering." I felt panic creep into my shoulders, up my chin, threatening to reach my brain. I held my forehead with both hands. "W-what do I do?"

            "I'm afraid there's no cure for it, Kid. But you shouldn't let it bother you all that much." He looked into my eyes and his voice was sincere. "You should be happy. Falling in love is debatably the best thing humans can experience. To be in love with someone must be a huge step forward to being human. It's something worth celebrating, not getting butterflies in your stomach!"

            "Really?" Somehow, that didn't sit right with me. Something missing. "I should tell her, then..? Would that make my stomach settle?"

            "Woah there, kid. I wasn't saying that…I'd wait before you jumped on that boat. Let it go naturally. Sometimes you can tell if someone else likes you the same way, even when you don't tell them."

            "Like in their eyes?" I guessed.

            "Yeah…something like that. Listen, if you tell someone your feelings and they don't feel the same way, you get hurt."

            " _A dagger twisted through, turning clockwise with each glance I catch, each laugh I listen to, wishing love could just stop._ " I gave a voice to a thought I had heard from somewhere some time ago.

            "Exactly. Just wait and watch, and whatever you do, don't stop being you. You're crushing on a very important lady, the world depends on her, and you're the only one she's opened up to. We can't lose that. Most of all, I don't want you ruining a friendship."

            _The only one she's opened up to_ …so in that way, I was special to her, right? Strange, how I was truly special to someone. I was special to Rhys, but he had Evangeline. Naomi had only opened up to me. That meant something in itself, even if it didn't include love. Love can wait, we were friends first. I turned to leave.

            "I'm off to go talk to Naomi." I spoke to Varric behind me. "She'll start wondering where I've been. Thank you."

            "Have fun!" he called back. There was sadness in his heart's song. I didn't know entirely what, I was too far away. The only bits I caught spoke of _growing up_ and _too fast_.

            I made my way back to Skyhold's castle. Naomi's eyes lit up at the sight of me. She was sitting on the front steps.

            "I was beginning to think you ditched me." She laughed like glass bells in the wind.

            "I'm sorry. I had to talk to Varric about something. We can go to the library now if you want." A smile grew widely on her face, in which she then extended her hand for me to help her up. I took it gingerly, feeling the smoothness of her small fingers as they were enveloped in my boney, coarse, scar-riddled hand. She gave my hand a squeeze before letting go. I could feel my heart threatening to race, blush blooming on my face, but I forced them back. If I wanted to get past this, I'd have to go with Varric's advice. Friends sounded much more appealing.

            "I do want. Let's go." And with that, we went back inside. Together.


	4. Dancing in Winter

            It's occurred to me that holding parties are a part of human nature. They gather around in some way or another, play music, dance, drink, and other human verbs. For whatever reason, too: culture, celebration, cheerfulness, nearly every excuse to hold festivities are fair game; but I never knew that parties could be _competitions_.

            When Inquisitor Naomi Trevelyan enlisted (or rather, requested) me to join her, Varric, and Cassandra to the Winter Palace, I didn't think it was going to be a party like the one we actually went to. I thought it would be dancing and fun, like the parties the Inquisition planned and practiced. It surprised me when Josephine pulled me aside right before entry to speak of otherwise.

            "Now, Cole…this isn't a normal party. We need you to be on your best behavior. Stay out of trouble, don't do the odd things you normally do." Her voice matched her eyes: stern, fiery, intimidating. "You know what's at stake here. The Empress's life depends on us. Just stay quiet, okay?"

            "I'll try." I nodded in the presence of her serious aura. I didn't understand, but business came first. I could do that, I thought. I was wrong.

            A wilderness, in which predators stalked on the weak without mercy, scavengers nipping at the remains, and the prey left for dead by their peers. Secrets swirled through the air like sinful smoke. They wore masks in reality, but masks in their minds as well. The songs of their hearts clashed awfully against the racket their faces appeared to make. I couldn't help the hurt, they hid it and denied it even when I pointed it out. I couldn't even wear my hat. Everything overwhelmed my senses, so I disappeared to the upper library. It was the best I could do to escape their wicked eyes and wicked hearts.

            There I stood, for forever it seemed. I had taken a small tray of champagne glasses, I'm not sure why, but the other guests wouldn't miss them. It was quieter here. Here I could be myself without fearing failing the Inquisition. I was still uncomfortable, a worm around a flock of hungry birds, but here I could breathe a bit. So I did.

            I was there for about an hour before Naomi found me. She looked handsome in her formal attire, the scarlet a striking contrast that made her eyes an even bolder blue, but she wore a mask, too. It was different from the others, though many were unique. A bright, light silverite shaped to her face. It was hard to see her eyes through them. The sight of her brought color back to my cheeks-or was that the drink?

            "I figured I'd run into you some time or another." Eyes hasty, scanning her surroundings while speaking. "Why aren't you with the others? I'm sure you could learn a thing or two with Varric."

            I gave out a louder sigh than I intended. "It's too loud below. Too many troubles, but none of them want to be solved. I can't help, so I'm stuck. I tried to help, and got burned." My fingers felt my sleeves, gently gripping the arm underneath. "It's better here, where I can't cause trouble."

            "Cause trouble…is that what Josephine told you?" a spark of anger flashed quickly by the iris. She put her own hands on my shoulders, and I ruled out the possibility of my blush being the beverages. "Cole, you don't cause trouble. You're never a trouble, so don't get that stuck in your head. We all just have to be careful. They play something called 'The Game' here, and it's cruel to everyone. You can't let them see your true intentions, but at the same time, you've got to get all of theirs. Even I have to be careful, and I was raised to play The Game!" Her eyes were serious, voice joined in with the concern. For that split second her voice was all I heard and it provided a rock I could stay on amidst those violent waters.

            "But what if I give it away? What we're here for?"

            "I trust you can keep a secret. You've kept mine this long, haven't you? If you have any trouble with that, just think of it like this: You're helping us immensely by not telling anyone." A pat on both shoulders, and she withdrew. Her aquamarine eyes were busy with all the commotion from below.

            "Alright. When you put it that way, it should be easier." I nodded in understanding. My voice trailed off before I knew it, and we were put into a realm of silence once more. The madness below woke me up, and I realized that I should take a chance and be friendly. "…um, I picked up some drinks from a servant, d-do you want one?"

            The mage glanced over at the champagne glasses behind me. "No, thanks. I don't drink…I should get going, they'll start wondering where I went. I'll come back when I need you, okay?"

            "Okay."

* * *

 

            Several betrayals, a few ambushes, and a rescued Empress later, things seemed to have died down. I didn't know Naomi had kept my hat with her. She put it on me before we began combat. I'm pretty sure I squeaked at that. I like my hat, a safety blanket covering the most vital part of me. I took it back off upon our return, but the gesture brightened up the situation, albeit slightly. Naomi looked spectacularly regal speaking with the nobles of Orlais. Side by side, she seemed to fit in perfectly with each of the leaders. It was a proud moment for the Inquisition. We had successfully brought peace to the Empress, Gaspard, and Briala. Now was a time for true celebration.

            It took a while for me to find the Inquisitor in all the festivities. It was still so loud, tormenting my timid self. Varric invited me to stay with him through the crowd, but I politely refused. He understood in an instant and shooed me off with a grin.

            "Great idea, kid! Now's your chance. Dance with her, women love to dance!" He encouraged me. Dancing? I wasn't good at dancing.

            As for Cassandra, she looked busy, bogged down with nobles interrogating her for her opinions on whether or not she'd become the Divine. I migrated slowly towards an exit. It was so much easier when I could slip into the shadows and remain unnoticed.

            I found Naomi resting over a balcony outside. She hunched over the bar, watching the stars above. Countless sparkles in the night sky stared back at her. It was quiet here. A sudden exhale after holding your breath for too long.

            "Are you alright?" my lips broke the silence, but she didn't jump. Instead, she turned to face me. Her smile remained, but an overwhelming sense of exhaustion emitted from every fiber of her being.

            "I will be. Just a bit tired from tonight's activities." Once carefully combed hair was now slightly unkempt. "How about you?"

            "I'm just glad it's over." I admitted, leaning on the balcony beside her.

            "We did good today. I'm proud of you. Now all we have to do is wait for this party to end." With that, Naomi stared back at the sky. It wasn't supposed to end like this. Now was my chance, Varric had said.

            "W-well, we could...I mean, can you—will you…" get it together, Cole. "The band is still playing music. People are dancing, you should join them. With me. We should. I-I mean…" I cleared my throat, feeling my face become red. "M-may I have this dance..?"

            I could see her surprise through the mask she wore. I didn't know if it was a good thing or not, unfortunately. Her eyes slowly lit up back to resemble her normal liveliness, and her lips shaped the prettiest thing I've ever seen. A genuine smile, teeth there and twinkling. It was so different from what she always wore. It was warm in its own, fascinating way.

            "You may."

            "B-but I'm not good at dancing!" Perhaps it was a good idea for them to warn me about being too honest, after all.

            "I don't care. You asked, didn't you?" She took my hand in one and placed her other at my shoulder after guiding my free hand around her waist. Chills ran up my spine. We've never been that close before, staring in each other's eyes.

            We danced slowly and clumsily, too busy focusing on our footsteps to keep in time with the music. At one point we got the hang of it, because I remember her eyes vividly. It was easier to see them this close. A sleepy and content turquoise, a still ocean at sunset, all before she closed her eyes and rested her head on my chest. We stopped and stood like that for the rest of the party. I wonder now if she fell asleep there.

            From the muffled melody her heart performed, I heard it change once more.


	5. The Fall

Things seemed to have gotten brighter after that night. I never forgot what happened, either. I'm not used to remembering. Spirits normally forget everything-even important things- but now our waltz on the balcony replayed like a broken record in my head, burning itself onto the back of my eyelids. The warmth of her head resting on my chest, soft blonde hair tickling as it grazed my neck, the scent of honeysuckle perfume stained with the blood and sweat of the ordeal just moments before. I kept quiet about it. The best course of action was to stay friends; she didn't need to know what I felt. But that didn't sound right, either. I couldn't just stand there with my heart hurting and expect to do my best for the Inquisition. There must be some way to ease the pain but keep our friendship.

            I wish I could take back the day I fell. None of this would've happened if I'd've just shouted. Curse my quiet.

* * *

 

            We were in the Western Approach, fighting off darkspawn in attempts to pacify the land. For whatever reason, I felt uneasy there. A past scratch in my heart only healed into a scar, the tissue tugged at by the atmosphere the surroundings gave off. Desert sank into my shoes, leaving sand between my toes. The wind left the grit of dust between my teeth.

            We fought the darkspawn to a Tevinter ruin. By the time we faced this land, our combat was like clockwork. I'd go in first, slipping into shadows before striking a blow at whoever was most vital to the opponent. Archers, otherwise. They'd interrupt the casters. Dorian and Naomi stood behind, hurling frost and fire, necromancy and spirit at whatever needed it. Blackwall would be our rock, steadily knocking back heftier opponents. We had the hole the darkspawn came from sealed off in no time, leaving only the punishment of Servis and his men. The ruins were so eerie.

            We rushed through the caves in an attempt to storm them out. Naomi took her post at the edge of rubble neighboring the cliff, and Dorian sniped from above. Blackwall charged after the Venatori warrior in front of us. As for me, I took to the shadows to off Servis. The mage put up a fight, but I was stronger. He was not a threat soon.

            "Dorian!" I heard Blackwall shout behind me, and I turned to glance at the commotion. The Tevinter Mage had gotten shot, his wounded arm dripping red by his side as he refused to back down. His dominant hand, I could see; with the sudden subtle sloppiness now shown in his spell slinging. They weren't going down fast enough. Venatori were much different than Darkspawn. For one thing, they _thought._ Conscious minds and calculating combat, memories and lives in their bodies. _I thought the Inquisitor was male; Keep my daughter safe; won't come home from this; shite, so much for that promotion._ It made it harder to kill them when they held fire in their hearts.

            I moved to join the fight against the archer. Blackwall had finished off one of the warriors, moving on to support Naomi against a swordsman. We held our ground, but the clock began to tick out of sync. With Dorian slower, it took me longer to take out the archer. The swordsman would've been taken down when I came back to it, but since I was still working on the archer, he still stood. And there were others.

            I didn't see the warrior until the archer died. As he sank to the ground I shifted to the shadows, the warrior advancing on the Inquisitor with a steady pace. She was looking the other way. As his weapon was raised to swing with both hands, a lever stopped my heart. Everything went so slow, but too fast all the same. A cry escaped my throat, revealing my whereabouts before I jumped in the line of fire. Naomi's eyes traced my shape and widened at the impact. She was aware now, warned and ready by my crushing ribs.

            And I fell.

            The force of the impact must have launched me off the cliff, for all I remembered after the falling was a rush of sand enveloping me beneath my weight. He must have really hated the Inquisition. A woman's shriek could be heard from above, but the fighting waged on. The pain trickled in with the sand. A burning, gaping hole at my core, it felt. But that would've been _her_ , and because of me, it _wasn't._ That victory in mind, I fell unconscious.

* * *

 

            I awoke in a tent in the twilight. The pain was there from head to toe, real and rigid, but somehow it had lost its bite. Was this the medics' doing? They had removed my shirt and had wrapped my chest with bandages. Bloody bandages, made maroon by my bleeding. It made my head dizzy, I remember. They were nice enough to leave my hat beside me, at least, but it hurt too much to reach for it.

            I was in Skyhold. I knew this because of the chatter around, and the tufts of grass that remained below the tent's barriers. I don't know how they took me there, or how long I had been there. I'd like to say Blackwall carried me, and hopefully only a few hours. A sharp pain in my stomach made it growl, and someone's head poked through the curtains.

            "The boy's awake." A Blackwall called out from inside. Somehow, I began to feel bitter with his pronoun. That thought fled from me when the tent's doors were pulled back further to reveal Naomi rushing in.

            "You're awake! Oh, thank the Maker! How are you feeling?!" her first instinct was to hug me. I could feel her fighting it. Eyes switched between my face and my wounds, calculating which was more important to set sights on. She settled on my eyes and…and her's grew wet. This wasn't what I wanted, tears to flow from her eyes.

            "I'm sorry…" my groggy voice only grew with panic "I'm sorry, I-I didn't mean to hurt. For you, to hurt. To hurt you. I wanted to help. You could've—"

            "NO, Cole! _You_ could have died! Dorian made it out okay with an arrow lodged in his shoulder! I could've survived a hit, you know that! I've been worrying for two days, I-I thought you were going to die..." Her rage was only drowned by a choked throat. She sat down beside me, wiping her tears on her sleeve. Silence fell over us as I searched for the right words to speak. It didn't help that whatever the medics gave me muddled with my mind. It was her who finally continued. "…I could've lost my best friend…Why did you have to scare me like that? Why did you have to risk your life…?" It was my turn for my eyes to switch. From tears, to her eyes, back to tears, then to her lips. Contemplating what to say. The answer was simple, and I was so stupid. Curse the medicine, she should've asked me while I was sober.

            So I said it. Or, well, did it. It got the message across. _Because I loved her._ What was I thinking? I had, despite my injury, took her by the cheeks, leaned up, and _kissed_ her, all in one adrenaline-filled, pain-numbed action. It lasted only a second before I woke to my senses and sank back down again, but the damage had already been done. Her cheeks blossomed in a rosy red, whatever tears in her eyes blinking away. I felt my entire face grow hot. Oh, _no_.

            "What…" she began quietly, confusion and panic trickling into her irises. The pain in my chest couldn't compare to the pain that began in my heart right then and there.

            "Heart beating heavy, palms sweaty, skin chilled yet hot and miserable. I don't know why I, my lips…they just…" I held my head "I-I want to forget. Want _you_ to forget. To disappear-not you, _me!_ "

            At that time the Inquisitor stood up with what looked like fear all over her face. This was what Varric warned me of. My heart began to sink, and fast.

            "Wait. Don't go. I-I didn't mean that. I don't know what's going on, but around you…the smell of fresh cookies, warmth of a fireplace, softness of a fennec, yet inside…me. Y-you don't know, don't you?" I had started strong but faltered, floor falling out from beneath me. She stood and listened, avoiding my eyes at all costs. "N-naomi, I'm sorry…Varric told me not to tell you- I'm sorry, but my heart hurts too much—I-I'm sorry, the words stick to my tongue, all too hard to scrape off but even harder to see on the floor. The "L" refuses to let go, latching on for its life. The 'o' clings behind it, oh so worried…it's afraid. _I'm_ afraid…" I felt my heart threaten to beat its way out of my wounds. Her eyes were so intense, illuminated by whatever thoughts were crowding her head. She should understand, but not everything I say was understandable. If I had noticed her trembling, I would've kept quiet. If only I had just warned her. If I wasn't wounded, this would never have happened. But I said it anyway. The L and the O cried out in terror, the V and E doing the same. "I love you." Is such a simple sentence, but it felt like a stab to the heart.

            And what waited was the worst part.

            She turned and left.


	6. Silence before the Shouting

            I was left alone for only a short while. Blackwall was the first to respond. The black bearded man shuffled in, eyes colorless and heart empathetic. His words were low and slow, like me as I had once carefully picked them.

            "She just got up and left you here? That's unlike her. You two are always together." He observed for a second before getting to the point. "You look hurt. I'll get a medic to help."

            The toxicity of her reaction had me at a loss for words and my brain too jumbled up to form them. I placed my fingers lightly over my lips and hummed tragically, an inarticulate moan of agony. Blackwall didn't know what to say about that. His heart sounded confused.

            "…I'll get Varric, too." At least he came to that conclusion. Though I didn't want to see anyone, really. I don't know why, but for the first time ever all I wanted to do was _sleep_. For a while. Until the hurt healed. The medic entered a few moments after Blackwall exited, replacing my bandages and feeding me healing potion until my nerves were numb once more; but the wound in my heart remained throbbing hopelessly.

            I was no better when Varric entered. Crickets chirped and toads croaked from beyond the tent's fabric walls, singing their songs sleepily. A small candle in the dark depths of a dungeon, faint and fuzzy, floating through the fog.

            His voice was warm, crackling like a fireplace as always. "How're you feeling, kid? That was some blow you took."

            With the comfort of his voice and the warmth of his words I was able to speak, though only slightly. "Worry welcomed in the world with open arms, though peeling away at peace like rotten plums. Can't say it, shouldn't've said it, wish I hadn't but can't take it back. A bird flying, fleeing freely, then falling, falling, frightened, failing…I'm sorry."

            "I…only understood part of that." The dwarf sat beside me, eying my bandages "Can you try and repeat that? Take a deep breath—if you can."

            I took as deep a breath that I could through the bindings of my bandages. It stung sleepily with my injured ribs. "I told her. I told her, and she left. She didn't even say anything." The confession brought tears to my eyes. None fell, but Varric noticed.

            "Oh…kid…I'm sorry about that. I thought I told you _not_ to tell her. This is why. Are you okay?" Heart sang sadly in sympathy.

            "I don't know…" but my eyes darkened once I said so. " _No_."

            "I'm sorry you had to experience that. Love's a double-edged sword. It's both the best and the worst feeling humans can feel. It's good that it brings you a step closer to humanity, but this…I wouldn't wish this on you, kid. I know how it feels. It hurts like hell."

            "Does it get better…?" I murmured, feeling the potions pull at my consciousness.

            "I don't know, kid. You'll have to wait and see."

* * *

 

            I was let out of the tent a week later. Varric and Solas visited me every day, and The Iron Bull, Blackwall, and Dorian every few. Naomi never did. And when I limped out of the tent to the brightness of day, she wasn't there either.

            It only took me a few afternoons to realize she wasn't going to meet me at the library, or that she now preferred to sit at the bar table to drink tea as The Iron Bull downed mugs of ale next to her, rather than climb the second staircase to the third floor. When we would walk past each other she avoided eye contact and hurried away. I couldn't read her without eye contact. Varric had said to wait and see, but the waiting hurt more.

            Even when my limp left, I wasn't sent with the party. When they stormed the elven ruins to the Eluvian, I was left behind to worry. Naomi replaced me with Sera. And then Varric, and then The Iron Bull, eventually every option but me. It hurt. I was too human to be oblivious. Too human to just forget. I finally had to say something.

            I found out by accident that Naomi had been spending her afternoons playing chess with Dorian. The two mages spent hours on a single game, as if the pieces were truly at war. Mainly, though, they were laughing and telling tales in between turns. Snippets of details were left out or changed from her stories, like holes nibbled through by moths in an old coat. I knew this because she told me the same ones once, but they held a different, darker song. Getting to the point that I strayed from, I followed her one day. She noticed.

            It was almost like a short chase. With hurried steps she strode, strayed from me, but I would not stop.

            "Naomi, wait!" I called as she passed through a crowd. Weaving my body was harder than ever, for despite my reluctance to be, I was realer than ever. She ignored.

            "Why are you running? Please, it's me, Cole!" I knew she knew who I was. I don't know why I said that, but at that time she reached a dead end. Cassandra tried to ignore the scene beside her training post, pretending she was reading Swords and Shields. Naomi couldn't avoid me now. It hurt me to see that the only way she'd turn and look at me was if she was cornered. But she did turn, eyes averting my gaze as I tried so hard to meet them.

            "Don't you have something to do?!" she crossed her arms, voice like venom. "I know _I_ do. Dorian's waiting for me, you're too nice to keep me here when I'm busy—"

            "Dorian can _wait._ " Icy blue finally met her Aquamarine as I snapped. She's never seen me snap. I haven't seen myself snap, either. It felt ugly, like spitting poison. I didn't like it. "I have _nothing_ to do because you haven't _given_ me anything to do! You've acted like I don't even exist for weeks now! Shoving me away into the shadows only hurts. I'm still here, yet you don't even want to look at me. Why?! Aren't we friends?!"

            Her eyes lit up with cold. She bit her lower lip in fear. Words she wanted but did not want to say passed through the whites of her eyes as she scanned me from head to toe, finally stopping at my own eyes. She grit her teeth and gave up.

            "... _DAMN IT, COLE."_ I didn't expect to hear those words. It surprised me. "You _had_ to tell me _that_?! Don't you know what the hell's on my plate as is?! You of _ALL_ people should know the SHITE I've been through, and what I _still_ have to deal with! Now I have to worry about _love_ as well?! _Now isn't the time!_ " as steady as her words were, her voice began to quiver.

            "So that's why you're ignoring me? Leaving me when I could help?"

            "You were _launched off of a cliff the last time you helped._ I can't bring you with me in good conscience when you could do that again. You mean too much to me." Hands balled themselves into fists, pain pulsing in her eyes. So much pain.

            "I'm sorry, but not sorry…timing wrong and wicked, but words sincere. I never meant to distract you, I only wanted to help. But you helped me more. You've helped me grow. To be real. Please, don't ignore me anymore. You don't have to love me; I just want my friend back."

            We stood in silence as she thought. I felt Cassandra stare at us, our drama clearly more interesting than the sixteenth read-through of her novel. I felt too shy to look in the blonde's eyes, but I found myself staring anyway. And then she sighed, shakily.

            "I don't know if I love you or not, but we can still be friends." Bittersweet words flowed from her lips as she stepped forth. "I'm sorry for acting rudely, it was unacceptable. I still want you as a friend, at least. You're the best I've ever had."

            She heard my sigh of relief, heart both flying and falling at her reply. The mage wrapped her arms around me, awkward at first, but warm nonetheless. A smile sprouted on my lips.

            "…if you come with me to fight Corypheus, promise me you'll never pull that stupid stunt again. You nearly gave me a heart attack." She murmured in my ear. I nodded, but no promises were made.

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to give feedback! I love hearing from the readers!


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